


I'll always be here

by captainhurricane



Category: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: (in one universe at least?), (partly), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dreams and Nightmares, Dreamsharing, Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Zack Fair Lives, different realities, idk what to tag this as because this is like 3 diff timelines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24215875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: Cloud dreams.
Relationships: Zack Fair/Cloud Strife
Comments: 8
Kudos: 82





	I'll always be here

**Author's Note:**

> so uh this is a little weird, hang in there
> 
> FF7R came and punched me in the face with nostalgia and renewed my love for these two (sike, it never left, but i did spend a long time not rly shipping them as a romantic pairing, just loving their relationship in general, but now I just .. Cloud is my fandom bicycle, shush)
> 
> yeah, only spoilers for the og ff7/FF7R/Crisis Core are the CC ending, You Know Who dying. This is just vague dreamlike bs because

A memory is a tricky thing. Sometimes untrustworthy, sometimes gone entirely. There are such gaps in Cloud’s memory, things that he will never get back. The boy he was has been shattered to pieces, over and over again, poison, both literal and figurative, injected into his very veins until he felt barely human. All good childhood memories, burnt to cinders with his hometown. Memories of golden beliefs, moments when he believed in the good and what is right, buried under layers and layers of nothing but black void. It had taken its time to dig them back out, to find himself fully again. 

He had always been himself, but he hadn’t quite remembered it all. 

Who is Cloud Strife? 

Who was Cloud Strife? 

He had seen his eyes, tinted with the alien green of Mako in every mirror, in his companions’ eyes. His own sky blue poisoned, tainted. Himself, poisoned, tainted, stomped down and drenched in rain and anger, then nonchalance, because not caring felt like the easier option. 

Yet. 

He hadn’t been raised to have a cold heart. He had seen the worst of mankind, witnessed births and deaths of gods. He had opened his heart, once more, to pats on his back, gentle teasing nicknames, soft smiles, even Nanaki’s fur under his fingertips. They had all accepted him, flaws and cracks and all. They all have their own things, own skeletons in their closets, own secrets they keep buried. They all have their own flaws, things that keep them up at night, find them wandering around in search of a midnight snack or going on runs in ungodly hours of the morning. 

A man with a machine gun arm had approached Cloud, so long ago, with a plan and a fierce passion, and Cloud had accepted. 

  
  


It’s in the quiet hours of mornings, the Planet breathing softly, a Mother keeping Her children safe, it’s then that Cloud dreams of him. 

Zack Fair only exists in dreams, in Cloud’s hazy memories now: but he’s still a bright spot of sunlight, an existence too perfect to belong in the blood and the rock where he died. But there he was, and here he is now, ruffling Cloud’s hair in his dream, calling him kiddo, even though Cloud is now older than Zack was when he passed.

Zack is never changing, always smiling. 

“You doing good, buddy?” 

“Pretty good,” Cloud murmurs. His dreams are always hazy, bright things, often he finds himself sitting on fields of flowers, or standing in some grayscale version of Nibelheim, as he remembers it. Now his feet are bare and the beach that opens up in front of him is nothing that he remembers ever actually seeing. “The world’s … calmer.” 

Zack hums. Wind whips his wild black hair and Zack leans back, breathing it in. He is as Cloud remembers him the best: wild haired and alive, always a grin lingering on his lips. Some other time and place, they would have made it to Midgar together, Zack would have been right by Cloud’s side through it all. 

Cloud wouldn’t have lost so much time to the haze, lost so much of himself that it took him months to pick up the pieces again. 

“You were never broken, buddy,” Zack murmurs. He slots his fingers, bare, through Cloud’s own. “You were always you. You’re always you. Just you.”

In the dream, in this hazy world of flowers and wind, the shape of a rusting Buster Sword lingering on the edges of his vision, Cloud can fold himself against his friend and breathe in his scent. 

“I miss you,” Cloud whispers. “I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.” 

Zack’s arms wrap around his easily, squeeze him tight. “Oh, Cloud. I miss you too.” Zack kisses his forehead, lets his lips linger. “I have dreams too, you know. Worlds where I can be there, as much as you want. Worlds where I dragged your bony ass - “

Cloud huffs a laugh and jabs Zack’s side with a finger. “- all the way to Midgar, wounded so terribly myself, and we joined Avalanche together. Man, Aerith was so surprised to see me. She cried.” 

Cloud squeezes Zack tighter. “She didn’t even cry when she - “ Old pain prickles in the corners of his eyes. He shuts them tighter.

Zack squeezes him back. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” Zack’s fingers tickle Cloud’s neck. “She was good. She was so good.” 

“Like you.” Cloud buries his face against Zack’s neck, throat tight. It has been years, no more world-saving for him, but the stab of grief is still there, digging its knife into his ribs. “You were the best of us.” 

Zack huffs. He kisses Cloud again, on his brow. Zack shifts to cup Cloud’s face. Blue meeting blue. “Well, I tried to be.” Zack brushes Cloud’s cheek and Cloud, restless, needy in this mind palace, leans against it. “Maybe, maybe, in some other life, I still am. Annoying you, pestering you, dragging you into all sorts of adventures. You’d get bored of me!”

Cloud’s nose wrinkles, his lashes fluttering. “Don’t talk shit.” 

Zack snorts. “You know I would have, Cloud.” Again with the big, blue eyes, again with Cloud’s downturned mouth and Zack’s sad little smile. “You know what I dream about? Mostly, it’s about you. I put such a burden on you. I’m fading, Cloud.” 

Cloud squeezes his eyes shut again. “Don’t talk shit,” he whispers again, but this time, his voice is low with grief. “I lost so much time to not even remembering you existed, then I lost so much time to Sephiroth, then - it’s like losing you again, every time. I remember you, Zack. I’ll always remember you.”

“That’s all a man can hope for,” murmurs Zack’s voice and - 

  
  


\--

\--

It’s in the quiet hours of mornings, the Planet breathing softly, a Mother keeping Her children safe, it’s then that Cloud dreams of him. These are dead dreams of a universe where Zack died and Cloud carried his legacy by himself, Zack fading under Cloud’s hazy mind. These are dreams of a cliff’s edge, that awful weight of the Buster Sword in Cloud’s hands, so unfamiliar then. 

And Zack Fair dying in front of him, hazy and beautiful and smiling. Zack had always been a bright spot of sunlight, existence too perfect to belong in the blood and the rock where he died. But there he was, and here he is now, looking at Cloud through rain-soaked air, blood on his lips, bullets torn holes into his body. 

“This is not right,” Cloud whispers, words still hard for him after all that time spent swimming in and out of consciousness. “Z...Zack.”

Zack smiles with bloodied lips. “The world isn’t right. I tried my best, buddy. I really did. Would you remember me?” 

Cloud can’t think. Is this a dream? Is this reality? His heart thuds in his chest, slow, the poison of the mako swimming in his veins. But Zack is dying, the skies have opened, but the blood on the rocks will never wash away. 

  
I’ll always remember you. 

“Zack,” he says, pained. 

Zack smiles and smiles and smiles and - 

\--

\--

It’s in the quiet hours of mornings, the Planet breathing softly, a Mother keeping Her children safe, it’s then that Cloud dreams of him. He’s safe in his new place, the scent of flowers in his nose. The house is filled with his family, all rooms occupied by the saviours of the world. Zack’s arm is around his shoulders, tight. 

Cloud dreams of good things, car rides, monster hunting in the plains. He dreams of Sephiroth, who never was experimented on, who never stepped on the monstrous path of becoming a god. He dreams of Aerith and her flowers, the personification of the love the Planet has for her children. Mostly, almost always, Cloud dreams of Zack. Zack can be obnoxious, loud, all over the place when awake, he’s that in his dreams too - Cloud dreams of universes where they both joined SOLDIER, both stopped wars and former friends turned villains. Cloud dreams of universes where they are just boys, in a world that’s never known war or the dreams of powerhungry men. 

Mostly, almost always, Cloud just dreams of light. Without Zack, Cloud would have been - he would have been lost, dead, buried and gone. 

From certain dreams, Cloud wakes with a flinch, eagerly burying his head in Zack’s neck, wrapping himself tighter around him.

“Mhm?” Zack always wakes then, quickly. Peacetime or not, Zack, in this life, was a SOLDIER, after all. 

“Zack,” is all Cloud says and into that name he puts it all: dreams nightmares wishes hopes realities where they died where they lived where they loved other people. 

Zack squeezes him tight. Somehow, understanding. “I’m here. I’ll always be here, buddy.”


End file.
